


The Saltwater Room

by Cuirlfox369



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: (sort of), AU, Angst, Eventual Romance, Fluff, Growing Up Together, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Past! AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-07-21
Packaged: 2018-11-19 19:00:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11319642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuirlfox369/pseuds/Cuirlfox369
Summary: His mother had warned him to never go to the cove to the west of their humble town. It was a fairly common warning told to the children. Look both ways before you cross the street. Don’t eat too much candy from the sweet shop. Never go to Black Cove. But Flug has always been too curious for his own good.How could he have known he would end up making deals with a demon?In short, a young Flug meets a very different Black Hat.





	1. Life for Time

His mother had warned him to never go to the cove to the west of their humble town. It was a fairly common warning told to the children. Look both ways before you cross the street. Don’t eat too much candy from the sweet shop. Never go to Black Cove. They called it that because the few who had dared to peer at it through the sparse woods claimed that the sand was a dirty gray, only a few shades lighter than pitch. The teenagers would dare one another to visit the small bay, but- every few years or so- someone would not return.

Flug was, by most standards, a quiet child who wouldn’t dream of disobeying his mother. At the same time, he was wide-eyed, curious child whose mind was not easily satisfied. He had timed it out perfectly. His mother went to bed roughly half an hour before the planes would fly over their small town. They were aircrafts from a military base further up the coast, but they would cross above their humble town with striking regularity before circling back. Flug loved nothing more than to watch them, for as long as he could. Which led him, flashlight in tow, to the shore of Black Cove.

Although the wind mussed the thin tufts of his blonde hair, he kept his silver eyes on the sky and away from the darkness around him. His gaze followed the planes’ dark silhouettes until they were indistinguishable from the darkness on the horizon. Only then did he register the chill in the night air and tug his dirty white coat tighter around his small frame. His mother had crafted it herself when he had declared he would be a scientist. Flug knew he should leave and return home before she noticed his absence, but his curiosity for the area was piqued.

True, the rocky outcropping that nearly encircled the bay felt oppressive from below, but it wasn’t terrifying. He had felt the slope climbing down and knew he could climb back with general ease. There was hardly anything that seemed to justify the warnings. With flashlight in his grip, he began a small walk along the shoreline.

(Perhaps if he had cared for the currents of the sea half as much as he cared for the machines in the air, he might have noticed the climbing tides. As it was, he did not.)

Flug was debating if he should give up and go home when his light flickered over a large hole in the weather-beaten stone. There were indents and markings around the entrance, as if something had once been carved around the opening, but now it was barely distinguishable from the rest of the rock. Beyond the archway, the depths seemed to lead only downward. One part of him wanted to run home and forget it ever existed. Just looking over the markings made goosebumps appear on his skin, and not just from the cold. At the same time, he told himself that it could be helpful to have a hiding spot, were he ever to be caught on the dark shore.

It was this thought that spurred him slowly onward, rubber boots splashing gently in the shallow water. He slipped, only one or twice, and hoped his mother didn’t ask why some of his clothes were wet. The young boy followed the cavern until it opened up to a larger space. Even with the limited light from his flashlight, he could see multiple caverns leading off into the darkness.

Flug tried to ignore the way each splash became a dying echo. The cavern seemed to smother his existence, each movement vanishing into the distant hush of the waves and the steady dripping of the watery caves. His beam roamed the expanse of the hollow and the boy found it to be unnatural in its evenness. Beneath the existing water, there was a dark pool, carved into a near-perfect circle. There were several seemingly natural pillars throughout the room, where stalagmite met stalactite, but they were spaced at regular intervals, equally distant from the central pool. Finally, his flashlight fell on a feature that was certainly manmade. Against one wall, perhaps where a large stone had once been, was a throne of sorts. It had lost definition from its weathering, but the shape was too specific to be natural.

And so naturally, he clambered up the slick stone to take a seat. His feet couldn’t even touch the floor, but he had to admit that it wasn’t uncomfortable for something made of stone. It was damp, like much of the cavern itself, but it wasn’t bad. From this view, unless he had gotten turned around, he was directly in front of the exit. In a better light, anyone who stepped inside would immediately notice this spot. Flug wondered what made it so important as he turned his light to the wall above his head.

There, higher up on the wall, was a dark mark carved into the stone. From this angle, Flug couldn’t make it out. He shifted to stand on the stone throne, but the image was still distorted in the light. He inched back carefully, but his eyes were trained on the symbol that was out of his reach.  It took standing a little too precariously on the edge of the seat for the markings to become something recognizable.

It was a top hat.

“What…” he breathed. What did a top hat have to do with anything?

“ _Hello_.”

Flug spun, his boots sliding against the stone, and suddenly the cavern was spinning more than he was. The water swallowed him up, the cold nipping at his cheeks, and then the world was void.

When it snapped back into clarity, he was coughing up water. His flashlight had vanished and he was soaking wet.

And someone was cackling.

(And it was certainly a cackling. It was harsh and rough, yet amused to the point of hysterics.)

If the smooth stone beneath his fingertips was any indication, he was in the stone chair again. “W-what happened?” he asked the darkness.

“You nearly drowned! In- ha!- _one foot_ of water!” There was a shuffling nearby that stirred the water. “I have seen humans die in foolish ways, but that was _easily_ the most amusing. I was tempted to let you see it through to the end.”

The boy swallowed thickly. “W-who are you?”

“ _I_ am the only reason that you are still alive,” the voice answered smugly. “Answer this for me. Why do you suppose they call it Black Cove?”

“Because… of the sand?”

The gentle splashing echoed again as the source of the voice moved through the water. “Perhaps. But the sand isn’t really black, is it? Try again.”

Flug’s terrified mind scanned every moment of his time on the shores. Nothing particularly dark had stood out, nothing that would lead to such a name. At a loss, he gave the only answer he could think of.

“I-is it…you?”

The movement stopped. Then, the voice laughed. “You are a clever one, aren’t you? Well, for a child, I suppose.”

“I’m t-ten!” Flug said, with as much dignity as his scared form could mutter.

“So you’re just small then?” That voice had definitely gotten closer that time.

He dared to ask, “How old are you?”

“Higher than you can count.” The noises were nerve-rackingly close now.

Flug’s eyes grew wide as he pressed himself closer to the stone, but the darkness was unrelenting. “…What.. are you?”

Something clattered softly as it was placed beside his hand. He swiftly clasped the familiar form of his flashlight.

“Are you sure you want to know?”

As terrified as he was of the answer, Flug knew his decision long before the light burst on with a click.

The being in front of him was most certainly not human. Its skin was as black as ink, and its jagged teeth had an unnaturally green tint. Its hands, if they could be called that, bore several sharpened black claws. Although it wore the what might have once been a fancy suit, the fabric was faded and tattered in multiple places. Even its monocle had a crack in the lens. The most normal feature of the monster was a black top hat on its head, and even it looked worn beyond repair.

“I am many things, but- for your sake- you can consider me a demon.” Now Black Hat leaned in close, smile stretching unnaturally wide. “Tell me your name.”

Although he felt petrified, the beam of his flashlight trembled pitifully. “F-flug,” he finally said.

The monster pulled a face of disgust. “Flug?” he spat. “That sounds hideous.” The boy in question was silent. It wasn’t an uncommon response to learning his name, even if the situation was as uncommon as it could be. “That aside, I have a proposition for you, _Flug_.”

“I-I-I should be leaving.”

“I shall put this as simply as I can then.” A single claw dug into the fabric on his chest, just above his quivering heart. A red eye bore into his own with wicked intensity. “You owe me. As payment, I propose that we make a deal. I will _forgive_ this little trespassing incident and allow you to leave unharmed, but you _will_ return periodically.”

“H-how often?”

 “Do you humans still measure weeks?” Flug gave a feeble nod. “Excellent. Once per week should be more than fair. Do you have any other questions?”

The boy chewed his lip nervously. “Once a w-week u-until when?”

“Until the day you die.”

“A-and if I say no…”

A single red eye narrowed. “Then that day will arrive much sooner than you think.” He stood, towering over the small child, and held out a clawed hand. “Do we have a deal?”

Flug’s hand was still shaking as he gripped Black Hat’s hand as best he could. “Yes, s-sir.”

The demon gave a smile that was anything but encouraging before releasing him. “I know you were just _dying_ to get here, but you should run along home now.”

Flug moved slowly as he climbed down from the throne, as if any sudden movement would cause the demon to attack. He stepped into the water, uncaring of the way it soaked his jeans and flooded his boots. Only when he was sure that he was out of the demon’s sight did he run.

He could hear an echo of dark laughter even as he made the climb out of Black Cove.

The next morning, the scent of saltwater on his clothes was undeniable proof of what had occurred. His mother asked why he looked like he hadn’t slept a wink. Flug lied and said it was just a nightmare. Never had he so wanted a lie to be true.

 

 

Flug tried not to think about Black Cove. Perhaps if he simply didn’t go, everything would go back to normal. It was by no means a good plan, but it was the only option the young boy had. His friend Demencia was the only other person who knew about his trip to Black Cove. The red-haired girl had begged to know what had happened, but Flug had yet to give away a single detail. It felt as if uttering it would solidify its existence, which he was trying desperately hard to forget.

Even so, six nights after the incident, he found himself walking towards the small bay. He told himself that, logically speaking, there was no way to undo what had happened. Clearly the demon preferred him to be alive for now, and the boy didn’t wish to tip that scale by going against his word. At the same time, Flug wouldn’t deny that he was terrified as he neared the cavern entrance.

He had barely crossed the threshold when a figure stepped out of the darkness. “Welcome back,” Black Hat said, voice dripping with mock sweetness. “You certainly took your time, didn’t you?”

Flug stuttered through the beginnings of a few different sentences before the demon silenced with a pointed look.

“Just remember, we made a deal,” he hissed, “and my contracts are very binding.” Then he turned his back on the boy as he took a few steps further down the cavern. “Technically, your obligation was fulfilled once you crossed the doorway. You are free to leave, but somehow I don’t think you will.”

Flug glanced at the exit and saw the gentle waves lapping at the gray shore. Returning his eyes to the demon before him, he asked, “Why?”

“You’re the curious sort, otherwise you wouldn’t have wandered this far in the first place.” Black Hat gave a slight grin over one shoulder. “The only reason you’re still here is because you want to be.” Without another word, he strode deeper into the watery depths.

Flug obediently followed him into the darkness.

When they entered the central cave, Flug could only stare up at the ceiling in awe. The cavern was illuminated by endless pinpricks of green lights, like frozen off-color fireflies. It was several moments before his voice enough to ask, “What are those?”

“Algae and a bit of magic. It’s no grand fireplace, but it’s something,” Black Hat commented nonchalantly as he seated himself on his stone throne. 

“There’s no such thing as magic.”

“Just like there are no such things as demons?”

The boy was silent at that. Finally, he settled for a slightly less damp spot on the cavern floor. “You really are a demon. And I made a deal with you.”

“You’re just now catching on to that?”

“Am I going to hell?”

Black Hat appeared confused for a moment before cackling at Flug’s stunned expression. “No more than you already were. We made a deal for your time, not your soul. Although,” he flashed a ravenous grin, “that can be arranged.”

“N-no, thank you, sir.” After a moment he asked, “Do.. demons need souls? Like food?”

Black Hat gave a harsh laugh. “Demons make deals for power, not for survival. I don’t _need_ anything. I would _like_ to have many things, however, and that is where you come in. You are going to bring me things from the human world and answer any question I ask. Is that understood?”

Flug looked up at the demon nervously. “I-I don’t know all that m-much.” When he received a slight glare, the boy swiftly added, “But I c-can try, Black Hat, s-sir.”

“Good. Let’s start with something simple then. What were those things in the sky last time you were here?”

There was a sudden spark in the young boy’s eyes as soon as the word ‘airplane’ crossed his lips. He leapt into a discussion about his favorite topic with enthusiasm. Black Hat would ask questions that Flug didn’t always know the answer to, but he tried to store it in his mind as something to look into later. When his yawns started to overpower his words, the demon shook his head and led him to the cavern’s entrance.

“You had better bring something interesting next time!” Black Hat called as Flug left. The boy managed a firm nod and wave before he began the walk home.

Black Hat stood by the archway for a moment. In the darkness, he stared up at the sky, imagining how ‘planes’ would look if they flew overhead. The waves lapped the shore and the only thing that crossed the sky was the sliver of a moon. Finally, the demon returned to his lair, muttering about the peculiarity of humans.

At least this one might prove to be useful.


	2. A Friend for Memories

As Black Hat expected, the boy did not take long to return. What he hadn’t predicted was a small girl with bright red hair wearing a navy dress and striped stockings. She didn’t scream, or run, or faint. Her first reaction upon coming face to face with an otherworldly being was to gasp like a person first discovering that puppies existed. Immediately, she began to cling to one of his pants legs.

“I love him!”

With a growl, Black Hat plucked the plucky girl off his person and held her at arm’s length. His glare fell on Flug, who at least appeared apologetic. “Why did you bring her here?”

The boy took quick breath before the words tumbled out in a rush. “I-I already told her about coming here a-and she really, really wanted to come with me and she’s my friend so I couldn’t say no and you never said I _couldn’t_ bring someone and she’s the most interesting person I know apart from you and-”

“Stop!” Black Hat said with a growl, he opened his mouth to scold the boy more, but a thought struck. “She can stay, but we have to make another deal.”

“What?!” Flug cried. “I-I don’t-”

“She can come and go as you do,” Black Hat continued as he set the girl on the ground, “but in return you both give up a memory. Nothing crucial, but a pleasant memory all the same.”

Now Flug gave him a puzzling look. “Why a good memory?”

Black Hat rolled his eyes. “As disgusting as it is, human affection does have power to it.” Demencia was bouncing excitedly, but Flug was clearly struggling to decide. “Just pick something that happens frequently. You won’t remember it to miss it.”

“Oooh, I got mine!” she cried gleefully.

After a moment, Flug nodded. “Ok. I know the one.”

Black Hat held out a hand to each of them. They accepted it.

_Demencia’s memory begins in a bed. Frogs croak outside her window and the room smells of fresh laundry. There is a woman and a man, who pull and tuck the warm blankets with practiced ease. They seem tired and weary, partly from work and partly from their fireball of a daughter. All the same, there is no mistaking the affection in their eyes. Her mother kisses her on the head. Her father tussles her hair. Demencia gives a soft giggle, muffled by her own tired vessel. They turn out the lights, sparing one last smile at the girl, before they gently close the door. The memory ends as their daughter drifts off to sleep._

_Flug’s memory starts at a table. Sunlight pours in through the kitchen window and songbirds chorus outside. The room smells of butter and maple as a woman places a stack of pancakes on the table. Demencia is there, grinning from ear to ear, with her fork brandished like a weapon. Flug’s mother laughs at their eagerness and quickly passes the breakfast onto their awaiting plates. Demencia pours syrup until her plate is drowning in it and tears into her food wildly. Flug is far more careful, cutting neat pieces out of his pancakes before he takes a bite. The memory ends as something homemade and delicious melts on his tongue._

Black Hat decided that he would not be making memory deals with the two of them anymore. They were still holding his hands and he pulled away quickly. “Ugh. You both have horrible memories,” he spat, “but a deal is a deal. She can stay.”

“Yay!” Demencia cried. Flug cracked a hesitant smile.

The demon looked down at the girl with a scowl. “Can you at least keep a secret better than your friend?”

Green eyes blinked up at him with adoration. “Nope!”

“D-demencia!”

She gave a giggle. “No one’s going to believe this anyway!”

Black Hat shook his head. “Close enough, I suppose. Flug, did you bring anything else?”

The boy nodded and gestured to an oversized backpack on his shoulders. “I-I have some books from the library, sir, b-but,” Silver eyes looked up at him pleadingly, “we simply can’t get them wet. Mrs. Peeble won’t let me take them home anymore if I mess them up.”

Black Hat turned and carried on through the cavern. “Follow me, then. I know a spot that will do.”

Although Flug was quiet for the walk, Demencia was more than happy to fill the silence with her own commentary on the caverns. She seemed ready to dive head-first into the pool in the main room, but Black Hat had held her back long enough to convince her to swim some other time.

After leading them down a separate tunnel did they come to small room situated slightly higher than the main one. With a snap of his fingers, the space was illuminated by the same magic as the main room, only now it shone a warmer, yellow shade. There were several carved shelves indented into the stone that displayed a wide arrangement of items. They were things that had fallen into his domain that he considered worth keeping, if only marginally (some sea shells, pieces of glass, a human skull, a pocket knife, and other such things). Although Black Hat himself was bored with the odd trinkets, Demencia was quickly running her hands over every object she could find.

“This room is the only one that doesn’t partially flood during high tide. It should be dry enough for your books.”

“Th-thank you,” Flug said. He pulled several from his backpack as the demon took a seat on the floor of the cavern. When offered, Black Hat settled on a history book, Flug chose one about various engines, and Demencia stuck to playing with the items in the room.

“Flug! Flug! You have to hear this!” She lifted a larger sea shell to his head. “You can hear the ocean!”

Black Hat was tempted to retort that of course you could hear the ocean, they weren’t that far from it. The words died on his tongue as Flug beamed at Demencia. He could almost see the gears turning in the child’s head, wondering how a shell could make such sounds. The two seemed deeply enthusiastic about the object, so he opted to simply ignore the ordeal. That was his plan, until Demencia was shoving the shell into his face.

“Listen!”

“No.”

“Please.”

“No.”

“Pleeeeeeaaaaase.”

Black Hat groaned. “Demencia, was it? You aren’t going to take no for an answer, are you?”

“Nope!” she said with a grin. Flug tried to hide his laugh as a cough, but the demon wasn’t fooled.

Now Black Hat was starting to understand how she had wormed her way here in the first place.

With a sigh, he held a seashell to where an ear would be and listened. The distant sound of the ocean was there, but he could more clearly hear quiet laughter and two all too mortal heartbeats. He returned it to Demencia’s waiting grasp with a disinterested tone. “Sure. ust like the ocean.”

Black Hat continued to read, quietly mocking the book for its oversimplification of events. Flug took notes in a small notepad as he scanned the pages of his own book. Demencia fiddled with some object or another. When she wasn’t, she was finding some way to chat with either Black Hat or Flug. Ultimately, the late hour finally caught up with her, and she fell asleep leaning against Black Hat's side. The demon pretended not to notice.

“Why is she your friend?”

Flug looked up from his book suddenly. “What?”

Black Hat gave a shrug. “Humans usually surround themselves with similar humans. You two, however, seem to have nothing in common.”

“Well, I suppose that’s why we’re friends,” the boy stated plainly. “Demencia thinks about things differently than a lot of the other kids, so she doesn’t really have any other friends. They think it’s strange I spend so much time reading about machines, so I don’t really have anyone else either.” Flug gave a small smile and looked up at Black Hat. “She’s weird, but I know I can trust her, cause I’m weird too.”

The demon’s gaze fell to the book in his hand, seemingly satisfied with such an answer, but his mind was elsewhere. He almost didn’t catch when Flug asked a question.

“Do you have any friends?”

“No. I don’t need any.”

“I know, you said you don’t need anything, but…” Flug persisted, “would you ever want any?”

Black Hat didn’t meet his gaze. “No.”

“Why?”

A single red eye finally looked at him in careful assessment. “I know it would end poorly.” He stood, the motion causing Dementia slip to the floor with a small thud. “Enough questions. You two should go home now.”

“Five more minutes,” she whined.

Several minutes later, the two were ambling through the forest. When Flug mentioned the conversation to Demencia, the red-haired girl simply laughed.

“He can say that all he wants, but it’s too late. We’re already his friends.”

“I don’t know,” he answered sullenly. “Why does he think something bad will happen?”

“We’ll just have to prove him wrong then, won’t we?”

The boy had to smile at that. “Yeah. Thanks, Demencia.”

“BH _will_ accept our love!”

“Wait, no, Dem-”

“Race you home!” she cried before running ahead.

Flug could only follow as fast as his shorter legs could carry him. She beat him there by just a hair, but Flug was pretty sure she went easy on him. He fell asleep in his room and Demencia crashed on the couch in the living room. His mother had given up questioning the girl’s random appearances and, in the morning, quickly set to making breakfast for three.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I writing Demencia well? I hope so. I try.
> 
> So yeah! I hope you enjoy! Kudos and Comments are always appreciated!


	3. Healing for Candy

“What the hell are you wearing?”

“Our Halloween costumes,” Flug answered plainly.

Demencia cried, “I’m a lizard!” She added a hiss for emphasis, as if the hood on her head wasn’t explanation enough.

Black Hat sighed and shook his head. “I realize that. You’ve explained this mixed up ritual to me before. What I don’t understand is why Flug has a paper bag on his head.”

“I wanted to be a scientist, but I also wanted to be a bit scary,” he began.

“You failed miserably, but continue.”

“Mom said I couldn’t wear a sandwich, so I had to make do with the bag the sandwich would go in.”

Black Hat stared. “You lost me.”

Demencia laughed. “The scariest thing Flug can imagine is a sandwich!”

“Hey!” he cried indignantly. “Sandwiches are responsible for-”

“Wait, let me understand this.” Black Hat loomed closer. “You have spent the past year in the presence of the most evil being on earth and the scariest thing you can imagine is _not_ the one and only Black Hat?”

“I wanted to go as you,” Demencia interjected with a pout, “but my parents said no.”

“Next year, come to me first, and you’ll be the most terrifying kids in town.”

Although Demencia appeared delighted at the thought, Flug shook his head. “If we’re too scary, we might not get any candy. And we didn’t just stop by to show you our costumes.”

“Come with us!” she said excitedly.

Flug continued, “You can come into town with us and we can say you’re one of our cousins in costume and-”

“No.”

The children were silent, but only for a moment.

“C’moooooooon,” Demencia pleaded.

“No!”

“You won’t be recognized.” Flug supplied. “Everyone will be in costume!”

Now Black Hat leaned close, to glare down at them with his single eye. “I. Said. **NO**!”

Now the silence stretched. Demencia spared a glace at her friend. Even past the gloves and the bag on his head, she could see him shaking. She grabbed his arm and drug him towards the cavern’s exit. “Ok, BH! We’ll bring you back some candy!” she called over her shoulder. Only on the shore of Black Cove did she release Flug.

“It was a stupid idea,” he muttered.

“Was not. Black Hat’s just being grumpy.”

“I shouldn’t have said anyth-”

Now Demencia gripped his head and stared past the goggles over his eyes. “Stop. Right now, you and I are gonna go get free candy and eat it until we’re sick, ok?”

Flug sniffed, but cracked a small smile beneath the paper bag. “Do we have to get sick?”

Demencia beamed. “Yes!”

The two shared a laugh as they climbed up to the tree line

Some time later, they were returning with an unhealthy amount of sweets crammed into old pillowcases.

“I bet Black Hat likes candy corn,” Demencia said.

“What makes you say that?” Flug asked.

The lizard-girl strode forward suddenly before turning to him with a mouth full of candy corn arranged like pointy teeth. The two all but collapsed into giggles as they made their way to the dark, sandy shore.

“You know what I think it probably is?” he asked.

“Wha?” she asked, chewing away at the candy corn.

“Black licorice.”

After a gulp, she laughed. “Gross.”

“But fittin-“

“HEY! What are you kids doing here?!”

The two froze in their tracks, heads whipping around to find the source of the noise. Twin flashlights fell on three costume-clad teens with bottles in their hands. The wind carried the scent of something sharp and rotten.

“I think it’s the freaks from Mr. Johnson’s class,” one boy in a skeleton costume said.

A girl dressed slightly like a cat scowled. “Why the hell are a couple of kids here?”

“I don’t know,” said the third teen, stepping forward. His costume included a bloodied mask that disrupted his voice only slightly. “Start talking, freaks.”

“W-we, uh, well-”

“We came to see a demon!”

The skeleton gave a laugh that wasn’t entirely convincing. “Get real. You know the stories. People go missing.”

Mask grunted some sort of agreement. “So what’s the real reason?”

Flug paled, but by his side Demencia fell into hysterics.

“See, I told you they wouldn’t buy it!” Now, Demencia gave another giggle. “And you guys? You _believe_ those stories.” She leaned against Flug for support as she laughed, and the boy could feel the tension in her grip.

“So?” cat girl asked with a frown.

Demencia grinned. “We may be freaks, but you guys are regular idiots!”

“You little-”

“Run,” she hissed by his side.

Flug didn’t wait to be told twice. In an instant, the two were racing down the sandy shore, pursued by the two boys.

‘Make it to the caverns, make it to the caverns,’ his mind chanted.

Demencia vanished into the rock, and now all he had to do was follow. He saw her look back at him with terror-filled eyes and at that moment Flug knew he wasn’t going to make it.

The next, someone grabbed the tail of his coat, and he tumbled into the sand with a cry. His bag was torn on the wet sand and his goggles were askew. His flashlight had fallen somewhere as his candy scattered across the sand. Flug looked to the cavern entrance once more, but Demencia was nowhere in sight. He cried out as a heavy boot fell on his back.

“That’s what you get, runt,” the masked one sneered.

“Just take his stuff and let’s go,” the cat-girl said, as if she was bored from their antics.

“Where’d the girl go?!”

The skeleton shook his head. “She’s long gone, man. Let’s just get out of here.”

“What, are you two scared or somethin?” Mask asked. His companions were quiet. The pressure on his Flug’s back suddenly grew sharper. “Squeal, kid. Which way did your girl go?”

Flug didn’t say a word. The boot lifted off his spine only for the heel to dig into his gloved hand. Some pitiful sound sprung from his throat against his wishes.

“Call for help,” the masked leader commanded.

“D-demencia…”

“Louder.”

Pain blossomed on his side as his boot struck out once more. Flug curled into himself, vainly attempting to shield against another blow.

“Demencia!” Flug wasn’t sure if it was the sand or tears that caused his eyes to burn. “Demencia!” Another kick collided with aching side. “Black Hat!”

“Kid isn’t even talking right.”

“Yeah, just let him go.”

“Shut up! I know-”

“ ** _Trespassers_** ,” hissed a voice from the darkness.

“Shit.”

The leader of the trio wasn’t fazed, or- if he was- he hid it well. “Where _the hell_ are you?”

“ ** _Intruders_**.”

“We need to leave,” the girl said.

“Shut up!”

There was an almost imperceivably soft click and suddenly the entrance to the cavern was bathed in light. Flug barely had a moment to register a worn black suit before the demon’s face contorted with an unholy shriek. There were tentacles and teeth strewn about a myriad of other monstrous features. The noise itself was deafening and painful, as if human ears were never meant to perceive such a thing.

Flug covered his ears, curling into himself until the screaming stopped. He didn’t realize that he was still crying until Demencia was there. She pulled the tattered bag and goggles off his head before wiping away his tears with her sleeve.

“It’s ok. They’re gone now.”

“Get over here,” Black Hat said. When Flug looked, the demon was still at the entrance of the cavern, but his features had returned to their normal state. “Make a deal with me and I can fix you up.”

“W-what…” Silver eyes narrowed at Black Hat. “You didn’t leave the cave.”

“Flug-” Demencia began.

“I was in trouble!” he yelled in a broken voice. “And you wouldn’t come help me!”

Black Hat lifted his claws- and Flug had only a moment to fear the worst- before the demon struck the space before him. Rather than slicing through the air, his claws collided with an unseen obstacle. Blue lights sparked to life, reverberating through the barrier. The markings about the entrance flared to life for a moment before once again fading into obscurity. Black Hat’s arms fell by his side.

“Now, I am only going to say this once more,” he said in a voice that sounded too… defeated to belong to Black Hat. There was a glare in his eyes, but no fire behind it. “Get over here and make a deal with me so I can help.”

Demencia picked up the salvageable candy as Flug shakily got on his feet. At the mouth of the cavern, Black Hat crouched to his level to examine his face. After a moment, a clawed hand gingerly pulled the glove from his battered hand. His touch was abnormally cold, but it was a relief to Flug’s aching hand as he prodded at it.

“You’ve got some minor scratches and no doubt a great deal of bruising, but it doesn’t appear like anything’s broken. I can fix you up for a price.”

Flug swallowed thickly. “What?”

The demon nodded to himself as if settling on a favorable deal. “Half your candy should fit the bill. I am curious as to how sweets have developed.” He held a clawed hand out to Flug. “Do we have a deal?”

The boy managed a small smile and took Black Hat’s hand.

The next moment, it felt as though there was ice in his veins, just cold enough to sting as it flowed over his injuries. It was there and gone as quickly as it had appeared, taking every ache or soreness and leaving only a faint chill.

Black Hat released his hand as Demencia jumped forward with a grin. “That was so cool!” the girl said happily. “Now let’s eat candy til we’re sick!”

Flug had a thousand questions churning in his thoughts. Although his body felt fine, his mind was tired. The thought of drowning his cares in sugar sounded far more appealing than trying to comprehend the mysteries of Black Hat.

Spread across the floor of the shelved room, the two children traded and haggled for certain pieces with the determination and charm of practiced merchants. Demencia loved sour candies and anything flavored like green apple, whereas Flug preferred the sort that would last longer, like bubble gum or lollipops. Chocolate was fair game, but neither of them really liked the dark variety. Black Hat would claim these as part of his share, along with a sampling of various sweets.

(They had to ask his thoughts on candy corn and black licorice. He thought candy corn was alright, but he actually quite enjoyed black licorice. The demon watched in confusion as Demencia gave Flug a whole chocolate bar, but decided against questioning it.)

By the time the two drug themselves home, with full stomachs and candy still stuck in their teeth, they smelled of saltwater and sugar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First major time skip! There will be more in the future, so buckle up.  
> I apologize for hurting tiny Flug, and for the jerk teens cliche, but at the same time *shrug*  
> (but no i am sorry, it just happened this way)
> 
> I hoped you enjoyed my candy headcanons!


	4. Information for Ideas

In the time that passed, their visits to Black Cove only grew more frequent. With a few spare blankets and pillows, they had established a cozy hideaway in the shelved room. Visiting every night was far too risky, but the two children had even managed to spend a few nights sleeping over at Black Cove. It was Demencia’s idea to bring a few board games into their hideaway. (Black Hat would almost win most of them, only to suddenly lose to Demencia. Flug only won when the game involved trivia of some sort. Black Hat always won Monopoly.) They had had their fair share of close calls, and Flug was almost certain his mom noticed his nightly absences, but for the most part it appeared their time in the caverns went unnoticed.

That fact did not stop the way his head would drop in class or the way detention dragged on. Demencia’s ever-present presence in the punishment class made it marginally better, but even she could only be so effective from across the room. The car ride home was marked by a disappointed silence from his mother.

Today, she appeared even wearier of the growing routine.

“I just get bored,” he defended lamely.

She shook her head at that, and it stirred blonde curls. “And when you aren’t sleeping, you’re helping Demencia release frogs from the science lab or putting ghost peppers in the cafeteria’s soup!”

“They never proved it was us,” he muttered softly. Flug didn’t add that it was only through his planning and a little bit of advice from Black Hat that they pulled off both feats. His mother gave him a disbelieving look. “They didn’t! And my grades are still good.”

Her gaze returned to the road ahead. “It isn’t your grades I’m worried about. You’re smart, and I just want you to put those brains of yours to good use.” He slumped in his seat, and she spared him a glance before heaving a sigh. “You’re fourteen and still figuring things out. That’s fine. But can you at least… play along? Maybe you can try to find something to keep your mind busy.”

Flug knew he probably wouldn’t, but he gave a nod of his head all the same. This seemed to satisfy his mother, who let the conversation drop.

That night, it wasn’t long after he settled in bed that there was a familiar mop of red hair outside his window. He felt only slightly guilty as he walked through the woods with Demencia by his side.

“The new issue of Firebolt finally came out!” she said excitedly, shoving the comic into his hands. “Darkfire’s back and he’s sooooo cool and you have to read it!”

Flug eyed the comic skeptically under the light of his flashlight. “Aren’t you supposed to be rooting for Firebolt?”

Demencia laughed. “That’s no fun. And have you _seen_ Darkfire? He’s a-”

“If you finish that sentence, I’m not touching this issue again.”

The girl gave a wide, knowing grin. “Oh, you will. Dr. Scar is in it.”

“Really?” Flug's excited demeanor quickly shifted to one of suspicion. “Why?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she said. With one last laugh at his expense, she raced forward into the darkness.

Flug groaned and gave on last look at the comic in his grip. Holding it tightly to his chest, he chased after her.

Even as he descended to the shore line, he could hear her chatting away with Black Hat. For a moment he wondered what had happened to where sneaking out and meeting a demon in saltwater cavers was the norm. All the same, he didn’t mind.

Black Hat acknowledge his approach with a glare. “What is that?”

“The new Firebolt!” Demencia exclaimed.

The demon frowned. “Ugh. Another one of your silly hero comics?”

“Well, I think the villains are the best parts,” Flug said. “They always have the best devices, even if they can be a bit ridiculous.”

Black Hat turned and led them deeper into the caverns. “If they were truly evil villains, they wouldn’t lose so pathetically.”

In the shelved room, Flug settled on a quilt on the floor to read the issue. Demencia read over his shoulder, commenting as she saw fit. She grew deadly quiet as he neared the final pages and sat back to simply watch his expression. As he snapped the issue shut, he sent a glare her way.

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes!”

“Dr. Scar would never work for Darkfire!”

“But he is,” she crooned happily. “And I think it’s because they’re in-”

Flug covered his ears. “Nope. I won’t hear it. Dr. Scar could do so much better than simply helping a maniac like Darkfire.”

Demencia plucked up the comic and held it out to Black Hat. “Here! You can read it now!”

The demon deadpanned. “Unless the hero dies, I’m not interested.”

“The hero can’t die,” Flug responded. He paused for a moment. “Well, at least he isn’t supposed to.”

“And that is exactly why I won’t be reading your little comic.” He reclined calmly against a small pile of pillows. “No matter how good or how grand the task, they are mortal and can die. I should know.” The demon gave a devilish grin, flashing green-tinted teeth. Demencia seemed exciting by the prospect of hearing some gory tale of murder, but Flug was clearly more hesitant towards the topic. Black Hat chuckled at his discomfort. “Perhaps a story for another night.”

“Do you think we would be good villains?” she asked with a hopeful smile.

“As of now? No,” the demon said. “You’re young, weak, and foolish." After a moment of reveling in their disappointed expressions, he relented, "With the proper guidance, however, perhaps one day you could be.”

Although Demencia was ecstatic, Flug still appeared dissatisfied. “Why would someone… want to be evil?”

Black Hat leaned forward to peer at him with one red eye and a cracked monocle. “The same reason you still sneak out at night to converse with a demon. A normal life is boring, full of rules and protocols. To a villain, the only limitations are what you can and cannot do.”

As strange as it was, Flug understood, and the prospect of was equally intriguing and terrifying.

The conversation shifted and finally they settled on playing a few card games. Demencia won most of them, but Black Hat managed to get a fair share of wins as well. Flug won one to be precise, and he felt like Black Hat had shuffled and dealt the deck with that intention (though Flug had no proof of this and he was certain the demon would never admit it).

The next morning appeared to go much the same as usual. He could survive for some time, pretending to pay attention, but soon his eyes felt heavy as his mind begged for anything else to focus on than the math equations he already knew the answers to. Flug stared at his notebook for a moment before turning to an empty page. If he wrote or doodled something, perhaps it would distract him enough. At first, he sketched a dark top hat on the page corner, but it was rough and did little to hold his focus.

His mind replayed the previous night’s conversation and it sparked a thought.

If he were a villain, what would he do?

Honestly, he had no desire for power, fame, or fortune. He didn’t need some magical ability to summon fire or fly (although flight did sound appealing). If he were a villain, he figured he would be more like Dr. Scar, with an endless array of devices and inventions to foil any hero. Although Flug believed his machines would not include any self-destruct buttons or comically noticeable weak points.

Flug began designing the devices in his head, and wrote details and descriptions in the margins. The students nearby were ignoring him enough to not notice his work. Flug reminded himself to look up occasionally and appear like he cared for whatever the teacher was explaining.

By the end of the day, he had several scrapped ideas but also a few solid concepts for instruments of villainy. They were entirely improbable if not explicitly impossible, but they were enough to keep his mind occupied.

(He put the black hat symbol on the corner of each of them. It wasn’t his signature, technically, but after the first it had only seemed appropriate. In this fictional reality his mind had crafted, the only being he could imagine wielding such devices was Black Hat.)

Flug continued his designs for the next few days. He crammed his papers into his overstuffed backpack and forgot them until the next day. When Demencia was knocking on his window, he didn’t think twice about grabbing his bag with a new library book to show Black Hat.

He and Demencia were in the middle of a debate about who would win in a fight, Dr. Scar or Darkfire, when Black Hat called his name. There was a notebook open in his hands.

“What is this?”

Demencia was quickly by the demon’s side, peering over his shoulder without any sense of personal space. “Ooo, is that a gun?”

“It’s a, um, shrink ray,” Flug said shyly. He didn’t meet their gazes. “Those are just.. some ideas I wrote up to kill some time in class. They’re pretty silly.”

“No way!” Demencia cried. “This seems so neat!”

Black Hat flipped through several more pages. “Do you believe these things are possible?”

Flug laughed lightly. “Not really. I mean, maybe one day, but I don’t think it’ll be a day I see.”

“I’ve seen humans create many things that were one deemed impossible. They’re still weak beings, but I can’t argue that some of them have ingenuity.” A clawed hand rubbed at the black hat imprinted on the corner. For a fraction of a moment, he thought he saw the demon give a genuine smile, but it vanished as if it had never been. “Will you be making more of these?”

“You totally should!” Demencia chimed.

“Probably," he said with a sheepish smile. "It helps get me through class.”

“Good. I would like to keep them.”

The two children looked at the demon in shock.

“W-what?” Flug stuttered.

Black Hat gave them a glare. “I want to keep them.”

“Why? They’re just… ideas for stuff that isn’t even possible.”

“Can I have them or not?!”

Flug chewed his lip uncertainly. As if sensing his thoughts, Demencia gave him an encouraging nod. The boy looked to Black Hat.

“Let’s make a deal then.”

Black Hat glared at Flug from beneath the brim of his top hat. “What kind of deal?”

“I keep making them, and you can keep whichever ones you want,” he said carefully. “And in return, you tell us more about why you’re trapped here.”

The room was silent. Even under the warm yellow lights, the demon’s gaze was cold.

Flug was prepared to withdraw the request, until Black Hat finally spoke.

“I will tell you as I see fit. You will hear it all, but I choose when.” He held out his hand. “Deal?”

Flug nodded. “Deal.” He couldn’t help the smile on his face as he shook a cold, clawed hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flug and Demencia are major trouble-makers. Black Hat doesn't help by giving them suggestions.  
> Flug's mom does her best.
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this chapter!


	5. No Deal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning! Subjects of Death and Loss are in this chapter!  
> Now you know. Carry on.

Flug continued his designs, and Black Hat slowly began to weave a tale about how he came to be in Black Cove. It was superficial information, if Flug was honest, as the demon was clearly prolonging the inevitable. Most nights he refused to say anything at all on the subject, but piece by piece the frame to a cohesive picture was coming together. Although Black Hat avoided the subject of Black Cove, it grew steadily clearer that the tale was nearing its inevitable conclusion.

Flug persisted through the waiting. He held to his end of the bargain and set to improving his designs. Bit by bit, the inventions shifted from figments of fiction to devices vaguely adhering to the basic rules of reality. They were still absurd, but Flug felt as if they had reached some realm of possibility. As to what person could manage to bring together the proper components, he couldn’t say. It was exciting to stretch his mind with what could and could not be accomplished (and he tried not to consider if it should be).

This led him, at age sixteen, to handing Black Hat a small stack of papers, detailing the design of a single invention.

“Cam-Bot?” the demon read.

Flug nodded. “Do you remember when we told you about television? Well, this is designed to record things for it. It can handle every aspect of broadcasting- audio, lights, directing, editing. It needs directions before doing so, but ideally it will one day have the capacity decide the best course of action without being told!”

“It doesn’t seem very evil,” Black Hat commented. “Although I do like the claws.”

Demencia grinned from beside him. “That was my idea!”

“Those are mostly for stability,” Flug explained. “And it may not be explicitly evil, but it has potential to be. With this robot, any villain could broadcast a Hollywood level message to the world!”

Now he and Demencia watched with bated breath as the demon flipped through the pages with seemingly mild interest. After several tense moments, Black Hat gave a single nod.

“I will keep it.”

Flug watched him warily. “You… like it?”

“Of course, I do,” the demon said with a scowl. “If I didn’t, then I wouldn’t bother with it.”

Demencia bounced on her toes. “Will you tell us what happened next?”

Black Hat set the papers on the shelf, alongside its brethren. “Are you sure you want to hear it?” Looking back at the two teens, he saw their all too eager eyes. “Someone dies,” he warned, but grinned with green-tinted teeth.

“Tell us!” Demencia pleaded.

Flug added a hasty, “Please.”

The demon took a breath he didn’t need and began the story once more.

_He had arrived at a small town along the coast. Under normal circumstances, he would pass over such quiet, mundane communities without a second glance. This place, however, was not as ordinary as it appeared. There were whispers of a benevolent witch with vast power, and what better candidate to make a proposition to? As they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions. He had entered the small town, expecting little recognition or resistance. It appeared word of his arrival had preceded his presence. A small band of do-gooders with home-made weaponry awaited him. Their leader was a woman wielding a worn sabre and wearing an amber dress. It was pathetic. As soon as he was holding her severed head, they were begging forgiveness. He didn’t kill them, not immediately. He left the woman’s body to rot in the streets as his new band of groveling followers waited upon him. Eventually, the witch would show and from there they could strike a deal._

_She did not meet him in person, not at first. Rather, she sent along a single message. She requested his presence in her abode for she wished to make a deal: the life of one she loved for her soul. She had cared for the woman in amber and was desperately seeking the power to resurrect her. It had not been his original plan, but it was hardly one he would deny. Thus, he met her in the caverns by the sea._

“And that’s all you need to know for tonight.”

Flug groaned and hung his head while Demencia threw her hands in the air. “C’mooooooon! You can’t just stop there.”

Black Hat glared at them. “ _That_ will be all for tonight.”

“Worse cliffhangers than Firebolt,” she muttered with a pout.

Flug looked to Black Hat. “Does this mean that you’re almost at the end?”

His silence was a clear enough answer.

The blonde teen spared a glance at the papers crammed atop one another on the shelves. “You know, I won’t stop making them when the deal wears off. It’s work to make them, but it’s also been a lot of fun.” Flug twiddled his thumbs idly. “So if you _wanted_ to finish the story tonight-”

“You two are insufferable.”

Demencia laughed. “Can’t blame us for trying, BH.”

“I can,” he said flatly. “And I will.”

Flug shook his head, but smiled despite it.

Soon, they parted ways as the two headed home. They hardly needed flashlights most nights. The trails to and from Black Cove were ingrained in their memories like the roads leading home. They could be blindfolded and still manage to find their way (which Demencia had tried once and only succeeded through sheer determination).

As Flug crawled into bed, he considered that it was a strange life in retrospect.  All the same, it was one that seemed as natural as breathing, as if there was no other way it could be.

 

 

It was a beautiful day when a part of it collapsed.

The sun was shining when officers arrived at his door. Flug’s first thought was that it had something to do with Demencia, but she rarely stirred up any major trouble without telling him. When he saw their pitying looks, his heart fell in his chest.

He wished he could forget how pristine the sky was, or how the birds chirped pleasantly. The air was scented sweet by the wildflowers on the lawn, and he would hate it for years to come. He wished his mind would let it be a blur and let him forget, but Flug was not so lucky.

Their words were imprinted on his mind. They looked down with pitiful eyes as they spoke about vehicles colliding, a drunk driver, no survivors. “She died on impact, she felt no pain, she’s in a better place now” were muttered as some form of comfort, but his mind was chasing to record the details, to process it all once more because it simply could not be true.

His mother was dead.

He wanted it to be a lie. He wanted it to be a nightmare. He wanted it to be some cruel trick.

He wanted it to be anything but true.

They asked questions, about people to contact and who he could stay with and a myriad of other things that hardly mattered. There were tears in his eyes, but he held himself together long enough to grab things for an overnight stay. He tried not to look down to hall to her room, or to the kitchen or her favorite chair in the den. They drove him to Demencia’s house and shared the news. Her parents cried and looked at him with that same pitiful look that he knew he would come to hate within the next few days.

Demencia was silent as she pulled him into a hug. He cried, but only just. He had to hold it together, otherwise he knew it would never stop.

Family members arrived the next day. There were tears shed, condolences offered, and casseroles stuffed into every corner of the fridge, to be re-heated and spread around as arrangements were made. No one sat in her favorite chair. He tried not to stare at the gaps that she should have occupied as they discussed the coffin and the dress. Someone had the audacity to say that wasn’t it lucky that her face wasn’t harmed, so they could have an open casket? Flug wanted to scream that there was nothing remotely lucky about this situation, but he bit his tongue. He held himself together, refusing to shed any more tears than necessary.

He heard them whisper, just around corners when they thought he didn’t notice. They said that someone had to take him, and preferably someone who could keep him away from the horrible influence of _that girl_ who had clearly corrupted their bright little boy. He wanted to scream that he was not their boy, that he was not so young as to not remember the years in which they avoided his mother like the plague. That story conveniently never came up as they sat around, chatting about their beloved daughter, sister, neighbor, friend. Everything burned in him like an inferno that he refused to release, because he was terrified of what he would feel without it.

Flug didn’t sleep. Though the guest room in Demencia’s house did not hold the memories of his own, they refused to leave him. When he would finally drift off into a fitful sleep, he would dream that she was there, as if she had never gone. He wished he wouldn’t wake up, simply so that he wouldn’t have to remind himself that he was alone as he had been when he fell asleep.

Three days of feeling like an enemy in his own home and two nights of dreading sleep were what finally brought him to Black Cove. Demencia watched him leave and didn’t follow.

On his stone throne, Black Hat awaited as if he knew Flug would appear. In the silence filled only with watery echos, he only stared.

“I want to make a deal. My soul for her life.”

The demon was expressionless. “No.”

“No?” Flug clenched his fists hard enough to hurt, but hardly cared. “Why?!”

“In the first place, I can’t.” He gestured across the green-lit room. “My magic can’t go beyond this place. Even if her body was here, her soul would be beyond my reach.”

Flug grit his teeth, but he felt his composure slipping. The sliver of hope he had chased now burned into his thoughts bitterly.

Black Hat was not finished. He looked to Flug again, face conveying nothing. “Secondly, I refuse to make such a deal with you.”

Flug glared up at him. “Why?”

“It isn’t worth it.”

“How dare you-”

“It would only delay the inevitable,” he interjected calmly. “It won’t hurt any less, no matter what you get to do or say one last time.”

“Then just help me and take it away!” Tears dripped down his cheeks. “I don’t want to hurt like this!”

Black Hat was unfazed. “No.”

“Why?!” he yelled.

“The only reason you hurt now is because you loved. Do you want me to erase every ounce of affection you ever felt towards her?”

“Yes!” he spat through bitter tears.

The demon shook his head. “You don’t. Every happy memory would mean nothing to you.”

“How would you know?!” Flug shouted as he stormed forward “You don’t know a thing about how I feel! So stop acting,” He balled his fist, “like you know,” He pulled his arm back, “WHAT’S BEST FOR ME!” His fist collided with Black Hat’s cheek, and through the softness he registered the vague outline of pointed teeth, but didn’t care. He was still crying as his hand fell to his side.

Black Hat hadn’t budged. “Are you done?”

It took him a moment, but eventually Flug gave a shaky nod.

The next, the demon stood and Flug was pulled against Black Hat’s chest. There were no words, only a firm presence to hold him steady as his thoughts spiraled.

Flug finally broke. Everything that had burned inside his chest flowed out in broken sobs and wordless screaming. It burned his throat and stung his eyes, but he did not shy away from it. He let himself feel every ember in the inferno that had raged without release for too long. He had to feel it. He cried until there was nothing left but smoldering ashes in his chest and a cold embrace to anchor him. The worn fabric of a suit caught every tear of his weeping, until he felt as if he had none left to shed.

When he finally found his voice, though rough and quiet, he asked, “What if they take me away?”

“They won’t.”

“They might.”

The arms around him tightened ever so slightly. “They _won’t_.”

Flug wished he could be as certain. “What would you do… if I didn’t come back?”

“You’re clever. You’d figure something out.”

“But if I _can’t_?”

Black Hat pulled away, expanding the distance between them until the the demon was staring into his bloodshot silver eyes. “I would wait."

“Demencia would-”

“Yes, but one day neither of you will return,” he said, “and I will still be here, waiting.”

Flug swallowed thickly but his gaze hardened with quiet resolution. “I would find a way to let you know.”

“Of course you would,” Black Hat muttered as he returned to his throne. “Now go home. You look terrible.”

Flug managed a faint smile at that. It didn’t quite reach his eyes, but it was start. “Thanks.”

He made his way down familiar paths through the woods. As tired as he was of crying, Flug still felt tears fill his eyes as he walked through the house. No longer filled with foreign voices, the emptiness was oppressive. In his room, he dug through the closet and found a dust-covered box buried in the back. There were several model airplanes, broken in some shape or form, and a pair of goggles from his old costume. The homemade labcoat was hardly white, and it still smelled like saltwater. In the bottom, there was an old blue bear with a flower stitched to its head. He hugged the plush to his chest and fell asleep in a bed that smelled like home and the sea. With discarded childhood relics spread across on the floor, he dreamt of softer memories and saltwater caverns.

There was still a hollow in his chest, but somehow it ached just a bit less.

 

 

They didn't take him away. The will, read only after the funeral, declared Demencia's parents as his legal guardians, entrusted with the house and its belongings until he came of age. At that moment, he knew she understood. Despite all the worry, the trouble, and the stress that they undoubtedly caused her, she understood. As the realization settled upon him, he felt lighter than he had in days. His tears fell again, but for a very different reason. 

He took an old box to Black Cove the next day and asked to store it in the shelved room for safe keeping. Black Hat allowed it without question. Flug told himself that he was probably imagining it, but the demon seemed almost relieved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just in case it is not clear, this is not why the "Major Character Death" is tagged. That is a later chapter.
> 
> Also! Cameos from Cam-Bot and 5.0.5.!
> 
> Fun Fact! Although Owl City songs have been my go-to for writing this story, I found Ed Sheeran's Photograph was better at getting me in the mood to write the bulk of this chapter. I will admit to getting teary eyed over my own story.


	6. A Gift for a Gift

There was a chill in the air that stung his cheeks. Flug tugged his yellow scarf tighter around his neck, and just a touch higher, but it didn’t help much. On the crowded shore, however, it was nice to hide his face a bit. The waves crashed against the beige sand, but the noise was lost in a sea of chattering voices and music from a make-shift stage. Blankets and lawn chairs were spread along the shore line, and even climbed higher up the slight hill. His breath came out as a white fog that blurred the activity together. Several eager children ran around with sparklers in their hands, painting impermanent pictures in the sparks and smoke. Even if he wasn’t fond of the socializing, he couldn’t help but smile at that.

Demencia approached, a beaten purple guitar in her grip. It was littered with spikes, covered in barely repaired cracks, and had a make-shift voodoo doll attached to the tuners. She wore a green sweater, ripped at the end of the sleeves to reveal striped fingerless gloves.

“Flug! Did you hear it? What’d you think?” she asked excitedly. The dark eye-shadow didn’t ease the spark in her eyes or the manic grin the stretched wide.

“It was, er, very energetic!” he managed as they began walking. “Very loud!”

A playful, and slightly painful, jab struck his shoulder for the weak compliment, but Demencia didn’t push issue. “You should have seen their faces! Mrs. Peeble was on the front row-”

“Oh dear,” he muttered.

“-and she had this look! Like I tried to drag a demon into a church service!” She turned to him with a wicked gleam in her eyes. “It was hilarious and- oh!” She slung her guitar over one shoulder- narrowly avoiding someone’s head- as she dug into her pockets. Demencia shoved a few short sticks into his hands. “I grabbed some sparklers!”

His eyes narrowed slightly. “Everyone in a ten mile radius knows you can’t be trusted with anything involving fire. Who gave these to you?”

“I never said someone gave them to me,” she answered coyly. With a laugh, she strode forward and further away from her exasperated friend.

Flug groaned to himself, but quickly caught up with her. “Just be careful alright?”

“You worry too much,” she said with a smile that did nothing to ease his concern. “I’m going to find Mom and Dad before the real show starts. What about you?”

He sighed and his breath turned white in the cold night air. “I don’t know. I might just go home.”

“You’re not gonna find someone cute to kiss at midnight?” she teased.

Flug shook his head and that was all he would acknowledge that comment with. “Bye Demencia.”

“See ya, Flug!” she called as she walked away. “Tell BH I said hi!”

He wanted to protest, but- in all honesty- she knew him too well.

Even as he made his way to the dark shores of Black Cove, Flug told himself that she wasn’t entirely right. He did stop by the garage first, to grab a few things he had been working on. They weighed down his old backpack, but he found he didn’t mind too much. His steps were light and even the chill in the air didn’t seem as harsh.

The waves crashed against the shore with a hush, only to fade into the quiet of the bay. The stars were the only things shining in the sky when Flug made it to the entrance of the cavern. Black Hat stood by the entrance, casually leaning against the stone wall.

The demon stared, unimpressed. “What are you doing here Flug?”

He tugged his scarf lower, just enough to for it to not muffle his voice. “I can’t just stop by for the sake of stopping by?”

“You could,” Black Hat admitted, “but you won’t. You always have something going on in that head of yours.” He eye settled pointedly on the backpack that weighed on Flug’s shoulders. “I’m assuming it has something to do with what you’ve got in there.”

“That’s… part of it,” he said carefully. “It’d be better if I showed you inside.”

Black Hat gestured to the darkness with mock politeness. “Lead the way.”

Only in the shelved room did Flug finally set the backpack down. He pulled from it a brown, rectangular device with several dials and a handle. With a turn of knob, the box crackled to life, but only released static into the silence. Black Hat stared with mild interest and a great deal of confusion.

“What is it?”

Flug fiddled with the device on the floor, brow furrowed in concentration. “W-well… I modified this radio. Turning the handle there should re-charge it when it runs out of power, but I never had a good place to test if it worked underground.”

“This is what plays music?” the demon asked skeptically. “I expected something more grand.”

Flug opened his mouth to argue, but grew silent at the noise suddenly spilling from the speakers. With a minor adjustment to the radio, the music came through with growing clarity. When Flug lifted his head to smile up at Black Hat, the demon loomed close.

“Show me.”

Flug dropped his gaze and quickly pointed out which dial did what. As soon as the instructions for changing the station crossed his lips, Black Hat was twisting the dial and shifting through the stations. He skipped any that were speaking, and only listened for a short period of time to any channels playing music.

“Do you like it?” Flug asked with a hesitant smile.

Black Hat looked to him with a sudden suspicion in his eye. “What do you want?”

Flug’s smile quickly fell. “What?”

“When you put this much work into something, you have a deal in mind. What is it?”

“I don’t ha-”

“Flug,” Black Hat hissed warningly.

Flug’s eyes narrowed. “It’s a gift!”

Through their silence, the music played on and echoed through the hollows.

After a few tense moments, Black Hat broke away from his gaze and looked to the radio.

“I don’t do gifts.”

“I know.”

“I don’t need it.”

Flug laughed a bit at that. “I know. You don’t need anything.” The blonde gave a slight shrug. “But I thought it would be nice.”

A red eye narrowed. “If this has anything to do with _that_ holiday-”

“Any relation to a nonspecific religious holiday is purely coincidental.”

Black Hat shook his head, but didn’t pursue the issue. The radio continued its song.

“Do you dance?”

Flug stared for a moment, processing the question. “Um… I did once at my cousin’s wedding? But that was years ago. I would have last year, but we got banned from the junior-senior prom so…”

“I’ll take that as a no then.” Black Hat stepped away from the radio and straightened slightly his worn suit. “I propose a deal. In return for the radio, I will teach you how to dance.”

“It’s a gift,” Flug insisted.

A clawed hand stretched towards him. “Then consider this a gift for a gift.”

Flug watched him for a moment, silver eyes searching. Finally, he placed his hand in the grasp of cold claws. Black Hat tugged him to his feet and led him to the center of the room. The radio played its melodies as the golden lights twinkled overhead. His thoughts scattered when a cold hand settled on his back and sent chills up his spine. Instead Flug tried to focus on the demon’s precise instructions. It was simple, technically speaking, but that didn’t stop him from stepping on Black Hat’s shoes more than once. Eventually they settled into something of a stable rhythm, though it was still not on pace with the ever-changing music.

“You’re too stiff,” the demon chided. “Stop focusing on all of it at once.”

Flug glanced down at his feet, the close proximity doing little to keep his thoughts focused. “W-what dance is this anyway?”

“The most basic form of a waltz I know, though I’m partial to a tango myself.” The demon looked at him questioningly. “Do you know if humans still use it?”

Flug nodded, but didn’t meet his gaze. “Both are still practiced, but they aren’t exactly common around here.”

“Fools,” Black Hat spat. “It’s one of the few things you humans can even come close to doing right.”

Flug raised an eyebrow. “Dancing?”

“Some dances, yes. And suits,” he added with a nod. “Almost everyone looks better in a suit.”

Flug started to respond, but froze at the distant sound of fireworks bursting in the air. He stepped away from Black Hat suddenly. “Should we, um, check out the fireworks?”

Black Hat’s arms fell to his side. “No. You can’t see them from here.”

An idea sparked suddenly in his mind. “Wait, I- hold on. Could you cut the lights?” When Black Hat only stared in confusion, he added, “Please.”

With the snap of his fingers, the room fell into darkness filled only by the quiet music from the radio. There was a flicker of light, a match being struck, a suddenly something ignited. It burst to life, shooting a small array of embers in every direction with rapid succession. The dim light glinted off of a broken monocle, but even in the darkness Flug could see a quiet fascination with the sparkler. Just as it was fading, he lit the second from its fire and passed it to the demon. Black Hat held it gingerly in his clawed hand.

“Happy New Year.”

The demon met silver eyes for a moment before returning to the flickering lights once more. “It’s only time. It’s hardly worth celebrating.”

“I suppose,” Flug answered in the dimness. “But it’s nice to hope that the next piece of it will go better than the last.”

“And what is it you're hoping for?”

Flug watched the dying sparks until they were a fading ember on a metal stick. “I’m hoping to figure out what I’m supposed to do.”

There was snap of clawed fingers, and the yellow-gold ceiling came to life once more. Black Hat was silent as he strode across the room to the radio, where some announcer was speaking, and turned off the box with the flick of a switch. The lifeless sparklers were placed on a shelf before he turned once again to Flug.

His gaze was piercing and calculative. “There is only what you can and cannot do. It’s that simple.”

Flug released a sigh as his eyes fell to the floor. “I can… go to college, who knows how far away, and learn how to do what I love to do best. I can graduate after several years and try to get a job building and creating like I’ve always dreamed.” Now he lifted his head with some sort of sorrowful acceptance. “But I can’t do that without leaving you and Demencia behind.”

Black Hat moved forward, never breaking gaze as his shoes tapped against the cavern floor.

His voice was calm and dark as he said simply, “You can go.”

“We made a deal!”

“And it was barely that!” Black Hat hissed back. “There was no real consequence had you ever broken your word. In another life, you might have been in pain or physically drug here to fulfil your bargain, but- as it stands- neither myself nor any magic of mine can leave this place.” A claw jabbed at Flug’s chest roughly. “You have a choice, and I suggest you not throw it away out of some pathetic sentiment.”

Flug visibly swallowed and leaned slightly away from the digit prodding at his chest. “You... think I should go?”

A red eye narrowed. “I am saying that if you’re looking for an excuse to stay, you won’t get it from me.”

“But Dem-”

“She is as much an adult as you are,” he interjected. “She can take care of herself, and would single-handedly throw you in the ocean if she heard you talking like this.”

Flug cracked a smile at that. “That’s true.” He stepped away and fiddled with the end of his scarf. “Thanks. For the dancing. And the advice.”

The demon muttered something that was might have been a thank you, but Flug couldn’t be certain. After a moment, Black Hat added, “Go home before you catch a cold… or pneumonia.”

Flug huffed. “That was one time!” All the same, he picked up his much lighter backpack without a fuss.

Black Hat followed him to the entrance of the cavern. Outside, Flug took a breath and watched the wispy white fade into the starry sky. The waves lazily lapped the shore, and the night was quiet. He knew he had stared a touch too long at the horizon when Black Hat asked what he was looking at.

“I suppose I was watching for the planes.”

The demon frowned. “They haven’t been around for years.”

“I know.” Flug tugged his scarf tighter around his neck. “Have a happy New Year!”

Black Hat shook his head as the blonde left and decided there were times he didn’t want to understand humans.

 

 

Flug and Demencia were banned from prom again, over an incident involving an obscene amount of honey, a fake bear, and a few hives of not so fake bees. Instead, they spent that particular night dancing to music from a radio inside saltwater caverns. Black Hat initially appeared disappointed to not see them in formal wear, but it didn't stop him from joining in for some of the songs. Demencia outdid them both on sheer energy and Flug tripped over his own feet more than once, but it was a fun evening. A younger version of himself would have never expected prom to occur in a cave by the sea, but somehow it felt more fitting.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, long note for this chapter. Because it gave me so much trouble. Apparently a week's worth. Like, in “It Could Be” the bathroom scene befuddled me until I finally worked it out. This one? I started this chapter three times, would get a page or two done before deciding I hated it and scrapped it. Between that and generally feeling a little dissatisfied with my work, I wanted this chapter to be good. I know what happens next, but this was an in-between chapter that I knew only in broken parts that were hard to mesh together. So many of you have such nice things, and I didn’t want to disappoint. I wanted to improve! I want to do better, find a better balance between details and dialogue, and do these characters as much justice as I can. 
> 
> Add that to a touch of general business this past week, and yeah...
> 
> Anyways, here it is! I hope you enjoyed it!


	7. Scars for Caring

Black Hat was no stranger to boredom.

Conquering the civilizations he had come across had been all too easy. Humans had been primitive and foolish and he had hoped that they might one day pose a challenge. They never did. He settled on a business venture to occupy his time. It was entertaining, swindling these pathetic creatures with simple deals and watching how they destroyed themselves and those around them. The use of coercion rather than deliberate force presented a strange sort of challenge, but- if he was honest- he had grown bored of that as well by the time he sought out the witch that had trapped him.

His time in the caverns had consisted primarily of waiting. He waited for anything to happen and break the cycle of nothingness. The tides would rise and fall, the sun would climb the sky and set on the horizon, and nothing of significance would happen. If he was lucky, a human might stumble across the caverns. He could have fun with them for a time, toying with their fears before the killing blow. They never lasted long, but it was something.

Then there was a boy. He was young and impressionable, and it seemed a perfect opportunity to break the mundanity.

Perhaps he had grown too accustomed to the sort of life he held with the two of them. He was never exactly sure when they would return, but he could be assured that they would stop by every few nights or so, circumstances permitting. In the years since that fateful night, Flug had held to his promise and returned at least weekly, usually with Demencia in tow.

Black Hat hadn’t expected his absence to faze him in the slightest. He had gone for years without human contact and had spent decades without their presence before now. There was no reason he should feel any different during the span of a few months at a time. He told himself that he didn’t miss the scrawny inventor, but he knew it was a lie.

Flug had left. Though it was true that he returned as often as he could, he was still absent for several weeks or even months at a time. He wrote letters to Black Hat and spoke with Demencia over the telephone, to share how his life was going. During busier times of the semester, even those would become rare. When he did return, there was an ever-present weariness that appeared to weigh on him. According to Demencia- because Flug refused to speak of such things himself- he was taking on a terrible amount of work in the hopes of completing his education sooner. After a bit of rest and some time spent with Black Hat and Demencia, the worst of his fatigue would fade, but Black Hat never forgot how dark the bags under his eyes were (or how Flug smiled wide at the two of them despite it).

It wasn’t as if Demencia didn’t do her best. She dropped by as often as she could, usually showing off the latest issue of Firebolt or some other series that captivated her. Sometimes she would bring her guitar or some sort of food to share. She had even gotten Black Hat a reptile themed calendar, to help him keep track of the time. The primary problem was that Demencia needed money for such things. She had hopped from several jobs, which usually involved playing her guitar in a variety of establishments. Demencia would fuss about not being able to play what she wanted, but if it meant a steady check, she would endure it. She kept up a smile- and never did she seem short of energy- but there was a certain loneliness behind her cheerful demeanor.

Even now, as she strummed something loud and violent from that beat-up guitar, he could see something that softened the edges of her grin. As the last note echoed sharply through the caverns, she looked to the demon with a spark in her eyes.

“Think they’ll like it?”

“Who knows,” he answered, “but it suits you.”

She gave a mock bow at that, red hair swaying wildly. “Thank you, thank you. I’ll be here however long they’ll have me.”

“Which place is it this time?” Black Hat asked, reclining against a worn pile of pillows. “The one that smelled or the one with the terrible name?”

“The one with the funny slogan,” Demencia replied as she set the guitar aside. “ _The Cold Sparrow_ , where there’s always a cold one to _spare-oh_.” She giggled, but Black Hat appeared personally offended.

“You should burn it to the ground for that reason alone.”

“Their humor not _dark_ enough for you?” she said with a growing grin. “ _Hats_ too bad.”

The demon’s face was deadpan. “I’m not taking part in this.”

“C’mon,” she whined and poked his shoulder lightly. “It might _suit_ you.”

“I need to forget this conversation.”

Demencia stood, tapping her foot thoughtfully as a mischievous gleam grew in her eyes. “So what you’re saying is… you wish you had _dementia_?”

A red narrowed as she stared back with all too proud grin. “I am going to kill you. I am. And when Flug asks why I did it, I will look him in the eyes and say it was the only fitting punishment for assaulting me with such a butchering of language and humor.”

Her only response was to laugh. Then she laughed some more. Her hysterics continued until she was sprawled across the floor and clutching her sides. Black Hat watched unfazed as she finally seemed to catch her breath.

“I’m glad you find death threats so amusing.”

“It’s funny,” Demencia said with a grin, “because you won’t do it.”

The demon crossed his arms. “And why not?”

She turned her head to meet his eyes, cheek pressing against the stone. “It’s a secret,” she said with a wink. “Don’t worry. You’ll figure it out eventually.”

Even then, Black Hat was fairly certain he understood what she meant. Demencia didn’t bring it up again as she plucked up her guitar and began strumming the fragments of somethings that could become songs. The demon listened and offered the occasional suggestion, which Demencia usually ignored or opted for doing the exact opposite. When the night grew late enough, she left the caverns, but not before giving Black Hat a crushing hug (which he fought only marginally). 

Black Hat returned to his waiting.

A few days later, he was idly browsing through the repetitive stations on the radio. The foolish love songs or up-beat dance tunes were barely tolerable the first time, much less the hundredth time. Rather than some over-emotional singer, a simple voice finally came across the radio.

“ **zzzt-** say that at least three patrons were seriously injured in the violent fight that broke out yesterday evening. There has been at least one confirmed death.” At least that sounded interesting. “Multiple witnesses contacted the police, but at this moment there has only been one suspect arrested. The bar will resume regular service as soon as possible, according to Angela York, owner of the Cold Sparrow.”

The announcer continued to introduce the next song, but Black Hat was hardly listening. Demencia had said she would be there, but- no. She could handle herself in a fight- he should know. Black Hat remembered teaching her how to throw a decent punch, and Demencia was stronger than she looked. She was fine, and was going to swing by tell him all about it.

No one arrived the first night. He told himself that it was fine. There was no reason she had to stop by immediately. She could be busy and would appear when she could mange it.

By the sixth night, he told himself that perhaps she was injured and recovering somewhere. She would visit as soon as she was well enough. He didn’t mind waiting for that; she was only human after all. (Though he tried to keep his thoughts away from the fragility of mortals.)

It took two weeks. Two weeks of isolation with nothing but his own thoughts and the radio to keep himself occupied. He nearly threw the device against the cavern wall more than once because those damned hosts- if they mentioned the incident at all- seemed to have some aversion to using the names of the people involved. It was raining when he finally had an answer.

He wasn’t sure if he should be concerned or relieved to see Flug, drenched from the rain and looking dead on his feet. He shook as he stumbled into the cavern, but Black Hat hardly noticed as he gripped him by the shoulders.

“Where’s Demencia?”

Flug looked at him, and in his silver eyes was something sorrowful and helpless.

“They’re taking her away.” He swallowed thickly. If he was crying, it was indistinguishable from the rain drops dripping off his cheeks. “She said- I don’t- no-”

“Flug,” Black Hat said as calmly as he could manage through grit teeth. “What. Happened.”

He managed a few somewhat steady breaths. “Th-there was.. some sort of brawl where she worked. I don’t know how it happened, b-but someone was killed. Their head was bashed in with her guitar. Demencia won’t tell me how it started. She says it was self-defense, but…” Flug closed his eyes, as if pained by the recollection. “There was too much damage for any jury to believe that. Every witness, every bastard involved- they blamed her.”

Black Hat felt himself ask mechanically, “What are they going to do?”

“If she was convicted, she could have been given a life sentence o-or… worse.” Flug answered quietly. “The lawyer plead insanity. She’s being committed to an asylum.”

“Her family-”

“They already agreed to it.”

Black Hat released him and paced the floor, shoes splashing in the shallow water. The movement did little the ease the rage boiling in his veins. “What will happen to her?”

Flug ran a hand over his eyes, vainly trying to wipe the water from his face. “I tried looking into it and it’s not… They change people, and usually not in a good way.”

The demon grit his green tinted teeth with a growl and continued his pacing. “Foolish, pathetic, worthless, miserable, pointless, useless, idioti-” He froze when a hand tugged at the arm of his coat.

Flug stood there, still drenched, and the clothes that clung to his skin only accented his thin frame. There were dark bags under his eyes, and his blonde hair clung to his face messily. He appeared the epitome of defeated. Despite it all, there was a cold determination in his eyes.

“We have to do something.”

Black Hat tugged his arm away roughly. “Do you have any sort of plan?”

“No, but-”

“Then _what_ ,” he hissed and jabbed a claw towards his chest, “makes you think that you can do anything about this?”

“You!” Flug answered with a glare. His eyes softened to look at the demon pleadingly. “I can’t do this on my own, but you’re- you! I don’t care what it is, what deal we have to make, there must be something!”

“There isn’t!” Black Hat spat. “Or do I have to remind you again that my existence in trapped in a hollow stretch of earth?”

“What if you weren’t?”

The rain poured down, a hushed cacophony that filled the momentary silence.

“Don’t be a fool,” the demon said finally.

“You never finished telling us what happened,” Flug answered coldly. “Demencia and I didn’t push the issue, but we never forgot. Out of everything you’ve told us, what happened then that you didn’t want to tell us?”

Black Hat growled, “You think that knowing will suddenly fix everything?!”

“If I knew how to free yo-”

A clawed hand suddenly gripped his still soaked shirt and pulled him close to an array of green tinted teeth. “It. Is. Pointless.”

Despite the way his heart hammered fearfully in his chest, Flug met the demon’s gaze. “Then why won’t you tell me?”

“Because you’ll do something foolish.” Black Hat released him roughly and turned away. “Go home, Flug.”

“That’s it?” he asked quietly. “You’re just giving up?”

In the darkness, the demon was a statue, still and silent.

“This isn’t just another human, this is Demencia!” Flug cried with his fists clenched. “If she _ever_ comes back from that place, she won’t be herself anymore. Now is our only chance to help her! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?!”

Black Hat gave no indication that he had heard him at all.

Flug spun on his heel and stormed out into the storm. He paused only for a moment as the rain beat mercilessly down. His mind traced over the indents in the stone that he knew were there, even if they had vanished in the darkness. When he finally strode through the muddied paths away from Black Cove, he had the beginnings of an idea.

Black Hat retreated into whatever comfort the shelved room held, but even it felt off-set. Certainly, it hadn’t been that long. She had been here, playing her guitar as usual. Every piece of her influence- the small stack of board games, a plush lizard, tattered pillows, and even the cutesy lizard themed calendar he had mocked- stood in stark contrast to her absence.

She might come back. She might not. She might not be herself.

He told himself that no one could change Demencia- not easily at least. Somehow the thought wasn’t comforting.

He told himself that Flug would eventually return, but- for the first time since their deal- Black Hat doubted it.

 

 

Black Hat didn’t need to sleep- he didn’t need anything- but it was a way to pass the time that distanced him from his own mind a bit. It was several days after Flug’s last visit when his dreamless rest was interrupted by a noise that stood in stark contrast to the usual echo of the caverns. He pulled himself off of a pile of blankets and pillows scattered haphazardly across the floor. That sound came again, a distant shuffling accented by the sound of metal clattering against metal. Black Hat quickly straightened his suit as he drifted through the caverns.

At the entrance, there was Flug.

He had a flashlight aimed at some sort of device on the floor. It was clearly thrown together with little concern for aesthetic with wires and parts exposed at odd intervals. Flug pulled some sort of tool from his pocket and adjusted the odd device.

“What are you doing?”

Flug tensed suddenly, and looked up at Black Hat with bloodshot eyes. He gave half a smile that didn’t ease the demon’s concerns. “Something foolish.” His gaze dropped to the device once more. “I just need to fix this one thing.”

“Flug, what-”

The device gave a sudden spark with a pop that had Flug scrambling away from it.

Wide, fearful eyes looked up at Black Hat, who had only a moment to register their fear, their warning.

The world erupted in something loud and burning and bright.

Then it faded to black.

Black Hat was no stranger to repairing his physical form. It was a pain, in more ways the one, so he often made a point of avoiding such things. He didn’t mind a stab in the chest where a heart would be, only to prove its futility. At his peak, Black Hat recalled a battle against a wizard with a penchant for fire. It had only hurt for a moment before his vessel repaired itself completely.

This felt far worse.

Everything burned as his being stitched itself back together as well as it could, but the process was slow- far slower than he recalled it being. Had he the presence to think it, he would have blamed it on his entrapment and cursed the witch even more. As it was, the demon could only think of stopping the ache in every limb and the fire on his skin.

When the world came back into focus, Black Hat wasn’t surprised to see scorch marks on the cavern walls. What had Flug-

Flug.

Black Hat struggled against the protest of still healing body and pulled himself to his feet.

The cavern was empty.

Ignoring every thought that presumed the worst, he hurried to the cavern entrance. Even before he saw the too-still form of Flug, the salty air was tinged with the unmistakable scent of blood and burning flesh. His clothes were in tatters, but landing in the damp sands had prevented the fires from continuing it seemed. Without hesitation, Black Hat reached out- only to be halted by the barrier. Never had he hated it more.

“Flug, wake up!”

His form stirred, but only slightly.

“Flug!” Black Hat roared. “Get up this instant!”

Shakily, Flug lifted his head. His face was scorched red and blackened in some places. His gaze was unfocused, as if he was struggling to keep his eyes locked on the demon.

“I can’t help you from here. You have to move!”

One arm reached out, fingers digging roughly into the sand, as he slowly drug himself closer to the cavern entrance. Each break was shakier than the last and Flug suddenly coughed something dark onto the sand. Black Hat watched as his arm slipped from beneath him and sent the man crashing to the ground once more.

“It’s just a bit further!” When he gave no response, Black Hat barked, “Flug! I do not give you permission to die here!”

That seemed to spark something in him, however faint. With unsteady, broken movements, Flug inched closer the caverns. He stretched a shaking hand out towards the demon. Black Hat pressed against the barrier, which flared bright blue but relinquished nothing. Flug gave one last push against the sand and felt a cold grip tighten around his hand. The demon pulled him close as gently as he could manage.

Up close, Black Hat paled at the extent of his injuries. With Flug’s unsteady breathing, it was clear the damage went deeper than the burns on his skin. Healing had never been the demon’s forte, and fixing broken bones and burns would take more than a few pieces of candy. As quickly as he could manage with the other in his arms, Black Hat rushed to the shelved room.

There had to be something to trade for, anything of stronger value to balance out. A part of his mind whispered a soul would suffice, but he pushed aside. Setting Flug gently on a blanketed floor, the demon hurried around the room. Most of the objects were more of his than Flug’s, defeating the purpose. No, nothing seemed strong enough to match the need. Finally, his eye fell on a worn box, gathering dust on the top shelf.

It was not a good option, but it was by far the lesser of several evils (something he was certain he would never consider when making a deal, but that was a thought he could evaluate later).

Black Hat pulled the box down and knelt by Flug’s side. His eyes had closed again, but his shuddering breaths remained. The demon hesitated only slightly before a clawed hand cupped a burnt cheek.

“Flug, I need you to listen. I can’t make a deal unless I know you’ve heard what I’m saying.”

Silver eyes opened only slightly. Charred lips croaked out a quiet, “I’m sorry.”

“Shut up,” Black Hat hissed, but quickly softened his tone. “I’m offering to fix you as best I can in exchange for any emotions you have for the things in this box. You’ll remember them, but they won’t mean anything to you apart from that. Do you understand?” When there was no recognition in Flug's eyes, he pulled the first item from this box his claws could find- a plush blue bear. “These things! I need you to understand, Flug. Do we have a deal?”

Flug’s eyes lingered on the toy for a moment. Finally, he gave an unsteady nod of his head. Black Hat set the bear aside and reached for his hand.

“This is going to hurt,” the demon warned.

Flug didn’t answer. Instead, a hand clasped the demon’s own with as much strength as he could manage.

Last time, it felt like coldness in his veins. Now, those pinpricks of ice were so cold that they burned as they scattered to each ruined stretch of skin, each broken bone, each bruise and cut and scrape. Last time, it had been quick, like momentarily falling into icy waters. Now, it lingered far longer, as if he would be burned alive in cold fire.

Perhaps he struggled. Perhaps he screamed. Flug wasn’t certain. There were only two constants- the pain meant to heal and a clawed hand that held him steady.

His body felt mostly fine when it finally ended. Mostly. He lifted a hand to his face and felt unfamiliar ridges where smooth skin had once been. Questioning eyes looked to Black Hat, but the demon only shook his head. Flug sat up slowly and looked at his hands, covered in similar scars. He clutched his arms as if it were the only thing that would hold him together.

Flug muttered something that Black Hat almost missed.

“What was that?”

“I’ll fix it. There’s another prototype- I’ll try again a-and build it better this time an-”

“You idiot!” he spat. “You nearly died. What the hell were you even trying to accomplish with this stunt of yours?!”

Silver eyes fell the cavern floor. “I thought… I thought if I destroyed the runes… It was the only thing I could think of.”

“That’s not how it works,” the demon said with a huff.

Flug glared weakly at him. “Well, you never explained how it did work! What else was I supposed to do?”

Black Hat didn’t say a word as he leaned against the cavern wall. After a moment, he finally spoke in a low voice, “It’s a trade. You pay the price, bring together the right components, and suddenly the impossible becomes reality. The greater the power, the higher the price. The same is true when one wishes to undo a spell. Whatever was paid to cast it, equal if not greater payment is required to remove it.”

He lowered his head until the brim of his hat hid his eye. “I didn’t realize until it was too late, what that witch was doing. Apparently the woman I killed had been dear to her, and cursing me was her way of exacting vengeance. I watched her say her spell with conviction, and still I doubted it would be strong enough. It was almost amusing... Then she plunged a knife into her chest, and sealed the spell with her very life. In her dying breath, she made it very clear what it would take if I had any hope of seeing the world outside these caverns.”

His hands tensed, claws scratching shallow marks into the stone. Though he hid his eye and monocle, Flug could see the bitter scowl across his face was not aimed at any being in the room. “In her words,” the demon spat, “a life who’s loss will impress upon me her pain.”

Flug was silent as the pieces slowly connected in his mind.

A soft “oh” was all he could manage to say.

When his eyes finally drifted back to Black Hat, the demon was staring at him with a cold fury.

“Before you begin to concoct some sort of plan, allow me to make one thing perfectly clear to you,” he hissed. “ _You_ are alive. _Demencia_ is alive. That is what is important.”

Flug wanted to accept that, but he didn’t back away from the demon’s glare. “What sort of life?” he asked somberly.

“One that still has a chance of getting better,” he answered with finality. Black Hat stood and moved to return the dusty box to its shelf. When he reached for the discarded bear, a scarred hand beat him to it.

The demon watched as Flug turned it over in his hands slowly, as if seeing it for the first time. “You weren’t kidding when you said I wouldn’t care.”

“What was it?”

“A gift from my mom. I think she just wanted me to clean my room, though. She made up some story about this little guy loving to clean and give big hugs. I named him 5.0.5. and he was my first friend. Even when I grew out of playing with him, a hug would still make me feel better when I was down.” He shook his head and dropped the plush unceremoniously into the box. “I guess I was too old for that sort of thing anyway.”

Black Hat opened his mouth to reply, but appeared to decide against it. As he placed the box to its rightful spot, Flug slowly got to his feet.

“I need to go and… try to fix a few things.” He pressed a hand to own cheek absently.

For that, Black Hat didn’t have an answer.

 

 

Flug returned once before he left again for school. He wore a neat lab coat and bright yellow gloves that shielded his hands. Black Hat didn’t question the paper bag and goggles that adjourned his face. He left a new cardboard box in the caverns- a gift from Demencia, he had said. Inside, stacked surprisingly neat, were nearly ten years of Firebolt issues.

He didn’t attempt to read them until after Flug had left. It was incredibly simple and predictable, but in some ways he could see why Demencia and Flug had enjoyed it. The characters unique enough, if it a touch simplified. The villains were idiots in many ways, but amusing idiots.

Tucked behind the Firebolt issues were pages, roughly folded together to form a make-shift book. The earliest were drawn in crayon, that left fragments on its adjoining page. The somewhat newer ones, judging by their improved art, made use of coloring pencils. Across the front of each brightly colored, handmade comic was a single title: “The Villainous Adventures of Black Hat Inc.”

The story was simple. The evil Black Hat, the creator of the company, would try to sell an invention created by Dr. Flug. Whether by the meddling of Demencia, a half-lizard girl, or the gentle-hearted blue bear 5.0.5., the device would result in some comedic disaster. Although it began as crude crayon figures, it had clearly developed into a solid style all its own. There was about it so clearly _Demencia_ and he reminded himself to tell her as much when she came back.

Black Hat told himself that she would come back, and even then he knew it was a lie.

He waited all the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longer chapter because honestly it didn't feel right to break it into two.
> 
> Mental institutions have improved a lot, but if you want some serious nightmare fuel, look into what they did to people who ended up there in the past. Also, this is one of those moments when I will kindly direct your attention to the "past" portion of the tags. I didn't include it just so they wouldn't have cell phones.
> 
> Warning in advance, due to a bunch of things happening the next couple weeks, the next chapter won't get here for some time. It will get here, but it is going to be a bit. 
> 
> Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter!

**Author's Note:**

> It was going to be a songfic based on Owl City's The Saltwater Room. It spiraled into this. I don't even know what to call it really. It is what it is. So! Rather than a long one-shot, I will be posting smaller chapters.  
> But this is purely an AU fiddling with an idea I had. There will be multiple time-skips in the future to fast-forward some things. There will be good times and bad times ahead. On the whole, it is mildly set in the past, but it is purely as a back-drop sort of thing. Biggest thing is that it isn't quite modern. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy it! Kudos and Comments are always appreciated!


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